What Lies Beneath
by Jazz's Girl
Summary: Italy is a happy, go-lucky, naive, cowardly crybaby, but what if there is something lurking beneath the surface? A demon that not even Romano knows? What if Russia oversteps a boundary he didn't know exists? Italy-centric AU Human names used
1. Prologue

Prologue:The beginning of the end

No one could understand. No one. Not Austria. Not Hungary. Not Spain. Not even fratello. No one. No one could understand what it was like to hear the one you loved was dead. Had been killed by someone you trusted. It was then that he understood what he had to do. What he had always been meant to do. He had to become strong. He had to surpass everyone. He had to gain a strength that no one could take a way. That no one could match. He would be strong. He would become something great. It was in that moment he began to plot.

_ I can't let anyone know. Not even fratello..._

It was that moment, when all tears had dried and his heart longed for someone he would never meet again, that he maade a promise to himself and to lost love.

_I will become the strongest! No one will mess with me! I will make something so great I will be remembered just as Grandpa Rome is! And, and I won't let myself fall in love again. Never! It's just a weakness now._

No one knew what the distraught Italian was plotting in his little room that day. Not Austria. Not Hungary. Not Spain. Not Romano. The world never knew what was coming. Was unprepared for what the small nation could achieve. Was to naive to what lurked just beyond the bubbly demeanor. The world could never imagine someone so sweet, so innocent, so twisted. This was the world's worst mistake. The beginning of the end...


	2. Ch 1: Suspicion

Ch. 1: Suspicion

"_When one's character begins to fall under suspicion and disfavor, how swift, then, is the work of disintegration and destruction"_

_~Mark twain_

_*~Somewhere in England~*_

It was unusual for Italy to skip a world meeting. It's not like he hadn't missed one before, but this was the 5th time in three months! He knew he should call him, just to make sure that he was alright. It wasn't like they were getting anything done anyway.

"Mon deu!"

"Get back here you Frog!"

"Mon cher, you don't need to get so upset! It was jus' a cup of tea!'

Germany sighed as he walked around arguing nations and out of the conference room. He walked down one corridor then another, stopping only to push open a door and step into another room. It was quiet, the racket of the world meeting left behind the rather thick doors of the conference room.

The blond pulled out his phone and dialed the all to familiar number of the bubbly Italian, put it to his ear, and listened to it ring. He was about to give up when a voice piped up on the other end of the line.

_"Ciao?"_

"Feliciano?"

_*~Somewhere in Italy~*_

The light was low. The room itself seemed shrouded in shadows, not that he minded. No he preferred it like that. It gave him a sense of power, of control. He smiled at the thought.

_I AM powerful. I AM in control._

He looked down the table. This was his power. The men, coincidentally all wearing expensive looking, dark colored suits and fedoras, siting on either side of a long mahogany table, they were his power. His smiled widened.

_If only they knew how wrong they are. About me, about them, about all of this._

"Don?" He looked up. He responded with a nod. "What are we going to do about the Russians?" Oh yes. He'd forgotten about them.

"Si. They are a problem aren't they?" His voice had taken on a playfully sadistic edge. How he would _love_ to tell Russia to Fuck off, but alas, that would ruin everything he had created. Well, that and he wasn't as big mouthed as his fratello. He knew self control. He had to, if he didn't he would have gotten himself killed already.

He looked at the faces of his most trusted. These twenty men were some of Italy's most powerful and they all answered to him.

"Does anyone have any ideas? I'm always open to hearing your suggestions, ve~." They all seemed to glance at them. They knew he was testing them. He always did and if he didn't like there answers, well, he had to make the Mafia good at _something._

"I think we should make it known to them just where it is that there boundaries ends and ours begin." His amber eyes just stared at the man. It had been quite some time since someone had actually taken up the suggestion to pose their ideas. It was a nice change of pace and it wasn't like he wasn't thinking the same thing.

"Ve~ Idea brillante! It's time the Russians figured out just who is strongest: la mafia italiana o la mafia russa." He grinned as the man visibly relaxed in his seat. He just loved it when they got scared. "Then we will start the greatest war the world will ever know, and we will win. Now how can we pin the fault on~"

_"Das alles ist Deutschland - das alles sind wir. Das gibt es nirgendwo anders - nur hier, nur hier. Das alles ist Deutschland - das sind alles wir. Wir leben und wi~"_ Auburn eyes narrowed in irritation.

_Who would be calling me now?_

He flicked his phone open and gave a sleepy 'Ciao', ignoring the others in the room. They had gotten used to his seemingly bipolar nature. It was just how the Don avoided suspicion.

_"Feliciano?"_

"Ludwig?" He blinked in slight surprise. Germany never called when he missed a world meeting before, so why now?

_"You missed another meeting." _Italy could have growled a 'no shit, Sherlock', but that would have given him away. Oh how he hated bottling himself up in the way he did. He really despised playing the fool. The very person he imitated was the kind of person that he would have killed on sight for the sheer sake of eliminating a headache before its onset. Or so that was the 'logic' he liked to use.

"Ve~! There was a meeting today! Oh no! I was having the nicest dream of pasta and giant dancing tomatoes! Lovi was there too! And Spain! But there was pasta everywhere and all I couldn't eat it all, but I still tried and~"

_"So you opded do sleep drough dis meeding doo? Dis makes de 5__th__ dime in dree months!"_ Italy ve-ed again feigning out-right fear.

"Spiacente! Please don't hurt me! I'll try not to sleep through another meeting! I promise just hurt me!" Feliciano babbled for a bit longer throwing in a few of the things he had used on him when they first meet before Germany had had enough.

_"I vill hold you do dat. De meeding is pracdically over now. So dere is no use do you coming like lasd dime."_ The Italian let out a sigh of relief.

_At least he isn't going to check up on me._

"Oh! Ludwig! We should go out for pasta sometime!Ve~ It'd be fun! I know this great little ristorante and~"

"Maybe some other time Italien." The brunette wished he could see the blond's face. It was sure to look like one of Romano's prized tomatoes. He loved to get the other so flustered. It was all Feliciano could do not to laugh each time a blush crept onto the others face.

"Okay. But I'll hold you to it!" Twisting the German's words so that he couldn't get out of their 'dinner date'. "Ve~ I should go before Lovi comes back and scolds me!" The Italian feigned fear once more. His fratello was a wimp. He only faked his bravery in front of others, but he was _so_ transparent.

Germany grunted a response before the brunette bid him an overly cheery farewell and hung up.

Italy just stared at the phone in his hand like it just bit him. Oh how he despised them checking up on him. He could take care of himself, dammit! Great. He was beginning to sound like Lovino to. It was bad enough they shared the same face.

"Boss?" He turned back to his underlings, as he secretly called them. "Are we going to continue preparing for the war with the Russians?" At the mention of the Russians Italy instantly perked back up, his sadistic grin returning to its proper place. Oh this was going to be fun.

_*~Back in England~*_

Germany just stared at his phone. He had hung up. Italy had hung up on _him. _ It was usually the opposite, he hanging up on a babbling Italy.

"Vhat de..." He pocketed his phone and made his way back to the chaos.

_Jusd vhat has godden indo you ladly, Feliciano?_

With thoughts of his self proclaimed best friend running through his mind, Ludwig rejoined the other nations. He quietly took his seat and began to make several plans to find out just why the little Italian was being so, out of character.

_**Ve~ That's that! Ch. 1 up and done! I do so hope it has meet the expectations of those wonderful reviewers of mine. I truly cannot tell you how much they motivated me to get this chapter up. Lots of love to you all! JG**_

_**Transulations:**_

_**Mon deu – My God (French)**_

_**Mon cher – My dear (French)**_

_**Ciao – Hello (Italian)**_

_**Si – Yes (Italian/Spanish)**_

_**Idea brillante – Brilliant idea (Italian)**_

_**la mafia italiana o la mafia russa – The Italian mafia or the Russian mafia (Italian)**_

_**Spiacente – Sorry (Italian)**_

_**Ristorante – Resturant (Italian)**_

_**Italien – Italy (German)**_

_**Names:**_

_**Ludwig – Germany**_

_**Feliciano – Italy**_

_**Lovino – Romano/South Italy**_


	3. Ch 2: And So It Begins

Ch. 2: And So It Begins

"_The beginning of knowledge is the discovery of something we do not understand."_

_~ Frank Herbert_

_*~Somewhere in Russia~*_

It was not something that they were expecting. Never in any years had an _Italian_ army, mafia or otherwise, declared war. Not even when they had been at war. It was always the opposing force that forced them to fight. Sure they'd won once, but that was sheer dumb luck. Thoughts of the impossible kept running through his head as he flew through the winding halls.

The urgency in his steps could be seen as clear as day. Words of disbelief flowed from his mouth in steady disbelief. The man nearly ran into the solid wood doors that held his boss behind them. Opening then with slightly shaking hands he made his way inside.

"Босс!" His panting breaths kept him from blurting out everything. His boss looked up from the papers he had been reading.

"Да, Comrade?" His violet eyes betrayed the calm in his voice. They held so many ways of torture and pain, not at all like his disarming smile or his calm voice and demeanor.

"Sir, the, the Italians..." The much taller Russian stood up, irritation and annoyance radiating off of him.

"What about them?" Again a calm voice. Oh how he enjoyed making them shake like a small dog.

"They've declared war." He raised an eyebrow. How could they declare war? He had not heard anything from his boss. As if sensing his boss's confusion his, Comrade, clarified.

"It's not the Army, sir. It's the Мафия. They've sent a message declaring a war against us for 'overstepping our boundaries'." His painting had subsided enough for normal speech, even though his chest kept rising and falling abnormally fast.

"Is that so?" He didn't even wait for a response. "What kind of message did they send?" His curiosity was peaked when the other Russian's face paled.

"W-we've been receiving packages for the last few hours, Босс. All different sizes. There was a note with the first one." He took a deep breath and continued. " It said 'We only feel it's right to have your own men send you this message: You have overstepped your boundaries for to long. Now it's war.' We had no idea what to make of the first line until we open the box. It was a head, sir. Each box we get is another piece. We've several bodies slowing being put back together." The man's face was as white as the snow outside the large bay window, but even then it still seemed to get even whiter as the taller man smiled.

"Comrade, tell everyone to prepare. If the little трусы wish to play, then we will play." His smile only grew larger at the thought. He hadn't had much fun since world war two had ended. So this was going to be splendid.

" Да, Mr. Braginski." He had forgotten the other man was in the room, no matter though the man was leaving anyway. Letting his unstable boss plan behind closed doors. The man shivered for a second pitying the Italians before letting that emotion fade.

_*~At Germany's house~*_

It had started out just as he had wished. He'd woken up early, trained for a bit, took a shower, prepared breakfast, gotten his lazy-ass bruder up, and then retreated to his sanctuary, a.k.a. his study. But all good things come to an end. By noon, Italy had shown up complaining to him about how scary his brother is when he's mad and going on about the pasta he had at breakfast. Really. The brunette had pasta for freaking breakfast!

"Italien! Bitte, I need do ged dis vork done. Id is very impordend." The hyper active Italian looked horrified, before mumbling an apology and sullenly walked out of the room. Germany just watched, trying to push the guilt out of his mind in favor of work.

He sighed. How was it that he could do almost nothing at all and make him feel so guilty? He would never understand, but it irked him to no end that the smaller man held that much power over him.

He walked through the house trying to find his friend and apologize. He had never expected to find the door to his room shut or to hear a low voice from within the room. He inched ever closer trying to grasp the conversation being said.

_"Hmm. Vedo. Non molto utile l'era poi? No non è di alcun uso. Sbarazzarsi di lui. Come? Vediamo. ...go con il mio favorito! È stato così lungo poiché l'abbiamo fatto! Bene. Mi tiene aggiornato, sì?" _ Germany's eyes widened. He knew his Italian wasn't as good as it used to be but he was sure that the voice said to 'get rid of someone'...Was that Italy in there? It had to be. No one else in his house spoke Italian. But why would Italy – sweet, bubbly, innocent, Italy – be telling someone to get rid of someone else? He shook his head. He was definitely hearing things. Maybe the

smaller man was right. Maybe he was working to hard. But even so, he couldn't have been to far off in his translation could he?

He shook his head, effectively pushing his doubt to the back of his mind. Turning back towards the door, he raised a hand and knocked. Sniffling began from the depth of his room.

"S-si?" The smaller man said. His voice was wavering and his eyes were red. He must have been hearing things, No one could fake crying to this extant. Still something seemed off...

" Italien, I, I am sorry. I shouldn'd have yelled ad you like dat. Please forgive me. Maybe ve, ve could go oud do ead somedime? You did mendion dat you knew of a gutes resdaurand dat served Nudeln. Maybe ve could go dere, if, you, wanded..." The blond trailed off feeling very awkward that he had just asked his best friend to go out to eat with him.

"Ve~" Large chocolate colored eyes stared up at him in confusion before closing rapidly. Italy talked his friend as best he could crying more tears and speaking rapidly in Italian.

"Ve~! This is so great! I know you will love it! It's design is purely Roman architettura! You said you like Roma right? Ve~ Nonno would have loved you! It will be grande! Grazie! Grazie! Grazie!" Ludwig blushed as he was given a kiss on the cheek for each 'grazie'.

"Ja, vell. I should ged back do vork." Keeping his blue eyes adverted, the blond walked away. He wasn't entirely sure what he had just gotten himself into, but to see his friend happy was wort it.

Once in the safety of his office sanctuary once more Germany took a seat behind his desk, but he did not immediately pick up where he had left off. The feeling that something was off, was _wrong_, still pushed against his abdomen. With a sigh, he picked up the almost forgotten documents, making a mental note to talk with the other overly excitable Italian; Romano.

**Okay! He's the first chapter update in the new year! I hope everyone's new year started out well, ve~. Mine did. But that's enough about that. Guess it's time for me to start working on chapter 3...Yays! Lovi is coming!**

**_Lovi: *narrows eyes*_ Don't call me 'Lovi', Damn it!**

**_JG: *glares at Lovi*_ I will call you whatever the heck I want! I'm the one writing the story!**

**_Lovi: *glares back*_ Well you still don't have ta call me that!**

**_JG: *smirks*_ Yes I do.**

**_Lovi: *still glaring*_ Oh and why is that?**

**_JG: *still smirking*_ Cause that's what the readers want and I'm all about giving the readers what they want.**

**_Lovi: …*muttering*_ Stupid Pierogi bastard. **

**_JG: *smacks Lovi upside the head*_ Hey! That's degrading to my Polish heritage! **

**_Poland:_ Like ya! What did Pierogis, like, ever do to you, like, anyway?**

**_JG & Lovi: *stare at Poland who is dressed in all pink*_ …**

**_Poland: *blinks*_ Like, what?**

**_JG: *shakes head*_ I'm just not gonna comment...**

**_Lovi:_ O.O**

_**Translations**_

_**Босс – Boss (Russian)**_

_**Да – Yes (Russian)**_

_**Мафия – Mafia (Russian)**_

_**трусы – Cowards (Russian)**_

_**Bruder – Brother (German)**_

_**Italien – Italy (German)**_

_**Bitte – Please (German)**_

_**Hmm. Vedo. Non molto utile l'era poi? No non è di alcun uso. Sbarazzarsi di lui. Come? Vediamo...go con il mio favorito! È stato così lungo poiché l'abbiamo fatto! Bene. Mi tiene aggiornato, sì? – Hmm. I see. Not very useful then was he? No. he is of no use. Get rid of him. How? Let's see...go with my favorite! It's been so long since we've done it! Alright. Keep me up to date, yes? (At least that is what I typed into the translator...Anyway, It's Italian)**_

_**Si – Yes (Italian)**_

_**Architettura – Architecture (Italian)**_

_**Roma – Rome (Italian)**_

_**Nonno – Grandfather (Italian)**_

_**Grande – Great (Italian)**_

_**Grazie Thanks (Italian)**_

_**Ja – Yes (German)**_

_**Names:**_

_**Ludwig – Germany**_

_**Feliciano – Italy**_

_**Romano – Lovino/South Italy/Lovi**_


	4. Ch 3:Time for a Nice Quiet Chat

**Sorry about the long wait. Really. The last few months have been tough. Work and school was killing me, then more recently I had to attend a funeral. Gah! Why does life hat me so much!**

**Okay. I don't own hetalia. Trust me. The world would know if I did.**

"_Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead."_

_Benjamin Franklin_

Ch. 3: Time for a Nice Quiet Chat

_*Spain's house*_

He looked around for at least the 27th time. It was a nice quiet neighborhood. No one seemed to even care that the German was still standing on the front porch of one of the houses or the fact that he kept glancing about him.

Germany sighed. Why was he even doing this again? Oh, right. Peace of mind. He sighed again. He really wasn't sure what he was expecting. South Italy hated him...Or at least it seemed that way to him and half the world. And yet, here he was. Standing in front of the door to Spain's house holding an inner debate to knock or not to know. Now there was a question.

Sighing one last time, he sent a quick prayer up, then raised his hand and knocked. The sound of shuffling feet and a shout that sounded to much like 'Keep your hands to yourself Tomato Bastard', the door swung open to reveal the still ever so happy Spain.

Spain's smile didn't even seem to falter as a Romano continued shouting obscenities at him.

"Oh? Germany?" Spain smiling faced melted into a curious one as he stared at the blond on his doorstep. "If you're looking for Feli, he's not here. I would think~"

"I'm nod here aboud North Idaly. I vas acdually vondering if I could speak vith South Idaly." He kept his voice calm as both of the houses occupants went quiet.

"What do want with me, potato bastard?" Romano's voice was as full of curiosity as it was full of hatred. Not that he understood the last emotion.

"I vas vondering if you could dransulade someding for me. Id has been a vhile since I have had do speak Idalian and I believe I am oud of pracdice." Oh, how that hurt his pride. But when it came to Romano, best to give him the truth and not give the easily angered Italian a reason to get all riled up.

The both brunettes just stared at him in disbelief, while Germany could feel his face start to heat up. This was not what he was expecting. No not at all.

"If now is nod a good dime I could come back lader."

"No! No. Please, come in!" Spain made an overly dramatic gesture with his hands before stepping out of the way. "This way!"

Germany followed the happy Spaniard into the living room with a curious Italian grumbling softly from behind. Once everyone was sitting down and Antonio had seen to getting everyone drinks, Germany pulled out a crisply folded piece of paper and passed it over to Lovino.

Lovino made a show of unfolding the paper as slow as possible in a way that said 'I don't care about you.' Dark brown eyes scanned the neatly written passage. His hands beginning to shake halfway through.

"Where did you hear this?" The elder Italian's eyes never left the page.

"Feliciano locked himself in my room afder I asked him to led my finish some paper work. I vend to apologize only to find de door shud and a voice coming from vithin. As I vas aboud to knock I heard Feli say dad."

The look on Romano's face was not encouraging. Not at all. The color had drained from his face, his eyes were slightly glassy, and his hands were shaking.

"A-are y-you sure this i-is what you heard?" Well that was not helping.

"Ja." Cerulean eyes stared calmly at the startled Italian.

"Oh? Lovi, what's wrong?" Two sets of eyes watched as Spain took the paper from South Italy and read it to himself.

"Germany, there is no way that mono y pequeño Feli would never say something like this. I should know!" There was that grin again. That stupidly happy grin.

Romano stared at his lap. "No. Lei non farebbe. Those closest to him never know." The softness of the loud Italians voice caused his companion to stare at him with wide eyes. "He never shows who he is. Potato bastard, I suggest you forget everything you heard. It will not serve you any good to remember or to dwell on it. You don't want to get involved."

Ludwig and Antonio could only stare at Lovino. Neither had ever heard him so serious. The three were so caught up in their conversation that they hadn't noticed the front door open or close.

"Ve~! I came to visit big brother Spain and Romano, but I didn't expect to see Germany here too!" The voice sounded so innocent, so genuine, but it was enough to snap the room's three occupants out of their previous trance.

"Feli! It's so nice of you to visit!" (Of course) Spain was the first to recover. The two stood talking, well Italy was talking. Spain was fawning over him. South Italy and Germany sat looking at each other, before Romano switched back to his normal personality and began to criticize him, his brother, and Antonio.

"Ve~! Ve~! Ho un'idea meravigliosa! Germany said he'd go out to eat with me," South Italy started to yell at the blond man, but Italy kept going, "But I just got a better idea! Why don't all four of us go out to eat! Hm? Isn't it just a idea fantastica?"

Spain agreed almost immediately, forgetting the earlier conversation completely, South Italy made it sound as if Spain was dragging him along, which he was, and Germany had already agreed.

When all the arrangements had been made and goodbyes were said, each nation made their way home, save for Lovino who said he was being held hostage by an idiotic tomato bastard. Feliciano closed the door to his house behind him with a quiet _thump_. His eyes narrowed as a small smile crept onto his face. His thoughts were nowhere any sane person would want to come close to.

"So Ludwig heard me, did he? Ve~ Lovi told him to. Not in so many words, but still. I'll have to deal with that brother of mine. Ve~! Si! We should really have a nice talk before dinner tomorrow! I can't wait! As for Germany, I'll have to deal with him another way. Although, if he finds out, I guess I will have to make sure he doesn't go spoiling my fun." The brunette laughed.

It had been so long since anyone had come close to finding out. It seemed to him that he had become lax in those years since. It was nice to have a challenge every now and again. Yes. That was what this was a challenge. A game. Just like this war with the Russian mafia. It was all just a game to stifle his boredom. Life had became a game. A reason to keep going. To keep moving forward. Gaining strength. It was nothing more then a game of cat and mouse. Of chess. A reason when he had no other reason. Sure he could have used his brother as a reason to live, but when had his brother ever cared. Oh, yes. When he had found out what kind of monster his younger brother had become. But he was no monster. No he was merely a broken man living in a broken man playing a game with all those who claimed to be unbroken. The smile grew wider.

"Lasciare i giochi iniziano."

**There! Done! Uploaded! Happy? Anyway here's chapter 3. You didn't think that Italy wouldn't make an appearance did you? Of course you didn't! How'd you like the insight into why Italy is the way he is? Bet you can't wait until the next chapter! Neither can I! Well see ya then!**

**Lovi: That was a quick authors note.**

**JG: Of course. I have personal stuff to deal with.**

**Lovi: Like what?**

**JG: Like two other fics to keep writing.**

**Lovi:...**

**JG: I thought so.**

_**Translations**_

_**Ja – Yes (German)**_

_**Mono y pequeño – Cute and little (Spanish)**_

_**Lei non farebbe – No you would not (Italian)**_

_**Ho un'idea meravigliosa – I have a wonderful idea (Italian)**_

_**Idea fantastica – Fantastic idea (Italian)**_

_**Si – Yes (Italian)**_

_**Lasciare i giochi iniziano. – Let the games begin (Italian)**_

_**Names:**_

_**Ludwig – Germany**_

_**Feliciano – Italy**_

_**Romano – Lovino/South Italy/Lovi**_

_**Antonio – Spain**_


	5. Ch 4: Insight

A/N: I'm alive!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot...

Ch. 4: Insight

_All our knowledge merely helps us to die a more painful death than animals that know nothing. ~Maurice Maeterlinck _

The room was dimly lit, but that didn't matter to it's two occupants. A sly grin was plastered to Feliciano face as he looked upon his brother. Lovino stared at the floor. Blood dripped off his chin from a split lip and ran down his body from various lacerations.

"Ve~ I hope you've learned why I had to punish you, fratello. You know I don't like to hurt you, but you broke the rules. And I hate rule breakers."

Lovino continued to stare at the floor. He held back cries of pain as his twin placed a hand on his back. "Why?" It was almost less than a whisper. Almost not loud enough to be heard.

"Why what, fratello?" Feliciano leaned in so his mouth was next to Lovino's ear. "Why am I a monster? Why am I like this? Hm? What-s is it, fratello?"

"Why did you change! Where is the fratello I grew up with? Why can't I find him!" Lovino let out a strangled sob as the emotions he had held in so long broke through his strong, uncaring demeanor.

"Because I killed him. He is no longer a part of this world. Forget about him." Feliciano's voice was calm and dead, but Lovino knew, under the surface was hate and pain. Far more then he cared to think about. He could feel Feliciano smile, words slipping from his mouth. Quiet words. Words that should never have been said by his carefree, airhead of a brother.

"Each of us play a part. Wear a mask. Become someone we're not for those we call friends. We hide behind a wall of fabricated character as a way to belong. We never show the world our true face. Our true self. The person whom we push behind the curtains and hope no one ever finds out about. We hide the scars with a smile or a harsh word. We mold ourselves to the will of others. A little make up. A new outfit. Words we know never should come out of our mouths are spoken. We are nothing but masked dolls. We let others who are also hiding paint their face on us. We are all hiding. All pretending to be so held together. But in the end we're not. No one ever is."

Lovino's eyes widened. This was the first time Feli had said anything other then to forget he ever existed as a happier version. That he had ever had a true smile on his face. Was he truly opening up?

"W-what makes you think that? When did that become your logic?" The hand on his back shot to the bash of his neck. Feliciano pushed down on that one spot.

"When my world came apart. And you didn't care. You didn't care when my world fell apart! Did you ever really care! No. Never. You had all you needed. I was just a fluke. A failure. I could never do anything right, could I? Never was good enough for you."

Tears rolled down Lovino's face. So it was his fault? He had had a feeling he somehow had helped to create this version of Feliciano, but to out right here it. His tears flowed a bit faster at the thought.

"Is that what this is all about? Me not coming to see you more often?" Feliciano let out a loud, dry laugh.

"You not coming to see me more oft~! Ha! No. It was never about that. Never. I stopped caring if you ever would. You never seemed to care that I was even your family, let alone your twin. All that mattered was him. He was my world. He gave me a reason when I had given up. I was so close to giving in. To letting you have it all. To just giving up and fade away. I was useless. A failure. Nothing important to anyone. Nonno was gone. You never cared. Austria only wanted me for the land he would gain. Hungry never had the time. So I went along. Hiding all I thought. Then _he_ gave me a reason. Made me dare to hope. He showed me something I didn't, no, couldn't get from any of you. Not one of you could make me feel that way he did." Lovino dared to look over his shoulder. His twins eyes stared at the ground, tear welling up in the corners of his eyes. They would fall. They never truly did now-days.

"How? How did he make you feel that none of us could? Please I want to understand. I want to know how, why, you let yourself become this!" His voice was hoarse, rough and quiet. Tears continues to fall down his face, soaking his pants.

"Completare." That one word spoke more then anything his brother could have said to him and hit him harder then a speeding train. A small smile made it's way to his brother's face. Not one the bright, oblivious smiles he usually wore, no an emotionless smile. A smile that held back none of the pain or hatred his brother felt. A calm smile. A dead smile. Feliciano's true smile.

"My world fell apart and me with it. Sorry to disappoint, but this is me. This is what happens when your to broken to be pieced back together." The pressure on the back of Lovino's neck disappeared as Feliciano straighten up. "I am the Mafia! I am strength! I guess this is arrivederci to the Feliciano, the Italia del nord, the world knew. It's for the best you know. I did so hate playing the fool."

* * *

Okay! I know it's a filler...sorta...but I thought you all needed to know I was alive and well. Mostly...being stuck in a house for several days with a nightmare six-year-old does things to a person. Anyway here's some insight to why Italy the way he is. Hope ya like! (P.s I think I finally figured out where this plot bunny spawned from! The song In Italia by Fabri Fibra! hehehe...)

**Transulations:**

Fratello – Brother

Nonno – Gandpa

Completare – Complete

Arrivederci – Good bye

Italia del nord – North Italy


	6. Ch 5: That which they cannot anticipate

A/N: Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen! Gomen!

I am so sorry that I have neglected all of you! But in my defense, I had school! And lose plot bunnies! And, well, an over population of plot bunnies...Gomen! I know I am so bad! And this isn't even a long chapter...

P.S.: I OWN NOTHING! Well, except for Carmina...

Ch. 5: "That which they cannot anticipate"

"Engage people with what they expect; it is what they are able to discern and confirms their projections. It settles them into predictable patterns of response, occupying their minds while you wait for the extraordinary moment — that which they cannot anticipate."

~Sun Tzu, The Art of War

The restaurant was all that Feliciano had described. It was like walking back in time. The waiters and waitresses all dressed in period clothing, the architecture exact replicas, even the plates and silverware looked like they could easily have been found at an excavation site. Germany was impressed. Really he was. He had no idea that places like this existed. He had honestly thought all Italian restaurants were like Olive Garden...

"So, you like?" Feliciano's innocent question brought him back from his straying thoughts.

"Si~ It's fantástico!" Spain was looking as amazed as Germany felt.

"Ja. I agree." Italy's smile seemed to brighten. Shining as the sun at the complements.

A young waitresses dressed like the goddess Diana, complete with quiver of arrows and a bow slung on her shoulder, spoke softly with Feliciano, who he could tell was a frequent customer. Romano on the other hand looked slightly scared and out of place. Feliciano directed the group to a booth that he said was usually reserved for him since he came to this place often. He babbled on for a bit before leaving to run to the bathroom.

The brunette stared at himself in the mirror disgusted. He hated the person he pretended to be. He had told Lovino that it was time his façade dropped, but he had yet to find an opportunity to do so. Lovino looked like he had been dragged through Hell when he said that this was were they were go to eat. Considering that this was one of his favorite Mafia fronts, it was only natural that his brother would be apprehensive to come in.

_BANG!_

_BANG!_

Gunshots? Feliciano cracked the bathroom door open. Two large men had guns drawn on his favorite waitresses. One of his personal guards daughters if he remembered correctly. Another man lay dead on the ground and Germany was clutching his left arm.

_How interesting. _Felciano smiled. His day just got better. He listened closely to the man closest to his location. He had a thick Russian accent. So it was the Mob then? His day just kept looking up. He now had the means to drop his false personality for good. A sadistic chuckle left his lips as he prepared to make his entrance.

"Carmina!" He burst from the bathroom crying and shaking. "Ve~ Don't me! Ve~!" He continued to shake and cry. Carmina looked almost ashamed to have forced his hand. A large bruise had already started to form on the young girls face. _As she should, but she looks to have tried to get way._

"Ve~ Carmina you're hurt! Ve~ What happened!" Terror and concern laced his voice. Oh good he was at acting! He should go into acting full time. No it was far to boring.

Not daring to question him she answered. "They were wanting the Boss. I-I told them he wasn't here, but they~"

"We have a message for the Don."_ For me?_

"I-I'll take it to him! Jus-just don't hurt any one else! Ve~!"

"Feliciano!" _Oh right. Germany is still here. How did I forget?_ The large blond looked frightened. Scared for the frightened little brunette he thought North Italy was.

_BANG!_ The shot hit the wall not far from Germany, Spain and his brother. Feliciano's eyes darkened, his tears stopped, and a sinister smirk slowly made it's way across his face.

"Ve~ I told you to tell me your message, though I'm sure I already know what it is. So why don't you give Brakinski a message of my own. Ve~" His voice was full of dead pleasure. Both Russians flinched at his change in persona. "Don't mess with the Mafia." He took out his personal Beretta. It's silver flashing in the restaurant's lights. It was such a change from his Beretta M 1951 service pistol. Two rounds. Two rounds of it twelve round clip and both Russians were dead. Blood flowing from both sides of their heads.

North Italy smiled dangerously and motioned for the people in the building to clean it up. He walked up to Carmina.

"Make sure _Compagno _Braginski gets his men back promptly." The young waitress nodded before barking quiet orders in Italian.

Italy smiled to himself, before directing someone to take care of Germany's injury. He then walked over to his private booth and slid into it. A steaming plate of Lasagna, his personal favorite type of pasta. Lovino silently followed. He knew not to disobey his bother. Even if an order wasn't given. He'd felt his brother's wrath on several occasions and after the last time he didn't want to add more injuries to his already broken body.

Germany and Spain stood side by side staring at the Italy brothers, or more specifically North Italy. Hollow brown eyes glanced up at them. Sadistic pleasure in his recent actions flashing in their depths.

"Are you going to order? Or should I just have them bring something out?" Lovino didn't do more then sit there. Eyes down cast even as a plate was set before him. Germany and Spain didn't know what to do. Their minds were far from figuring out what the heck had just happened. Their sweet, innocent, oblivious, air-headed, useless, little Italy just killed two men and thrived in it? Their minds were even more set back with his twins silent compliance with the whole situation. Neither understood how, or why, or when all this had begun. Neither could, in that moment, fathom what had occurred as real. Neither choose to accept it as real. So their minds did the only thing they could to keep themselves sane. They shut down.

The Italy brothers watched as two of the strongest men they knew fell to the ground unconscious. Amber orbs staring with unhindered sadistic glee, their earthy-toned counterpart's in sadness and concern. One thought resonated in their minds: _This is only the beginning._

A/N: Look back at the top A/N.

_**Translations:**_

_**Fantástico – Fantastic (Spanish)**_

_**Ja – Yes (German)**_

_**Compagno – Comrade/Companion (Italian)**_

_**Names:**_

_**Ludwig – Germany**_

_**Feliciano – Italy**_

_**Romano – Lovino/South Italy/Lovi**_

_**Antonio – Spain**_

_**Carmina – Just a random OC that I put in there. She may never show up again.**_


	7. Ch 6: Revelations

A/N: Fun fact about this chapter: I was listen to a Labyrinth by Oomph and 5. März by Megaherz while writing it. Don't know if that contributed to anything, but both songs go well with the story.

DISCLAIMER: I no own anything but the plot! So don't sue!

Ch. 6: Revelations

"Self-revelation is a cruel process. The real picture, the real you never emerges. Looking for it is as bewildering as trying to know how you really look. Ten different mirrors show you ten different faces." ~Shashi Deshpande

"Some mystery should be left in the revelation of character in a play, just as a great deal of mystery is always left in the revelation of character in life, even in one's own character to himself."

~Tennessee Williams

The conference room was silent and empty as he closed the door. He was the first there instead of the last. A small smile crept into place. Taking his seat, he set his briefcase on the desk in front of him. Opening it, his smile grew.

_'Time to see how the world reacts when truth is forced in front of them.'_

Setting his black fedora on the desk, pulled out papers and began to wait for the others to show up. His smile never vanishing.

An hour later the door opened again. Feliciano looked up from his work. Sandy blond hair, big, bushy eyebrows, and dark, green eyes.

"Ve~ Buon giorno, Inghilterra." Said Englishman's head jerked toward him, emerald eyes widening in shock.

"Oh! Um, Good morning to you to Italy. It's odd to see you here so early. Usually Germany is dragging here barely in time for the meeting." England stared at the brunette. Something wasn't right. Usually the room felt a bit warmer with the air-headed Italian in it. With his naive smile and kind words. But the room felt deprived of that warmth even though that same Italian was smiling right at him. Something most defiantly wasn't right. And where was Germany? The Kraut was always around Italy, or at least not far.

"Ve~ Germany isn't here if you were wondering. I decided to come early for once. Besides, I had some paperwork to catch up on." England nodded his head.

"Good. Good. Well, I should get some tea and coffee brewing. I'll be over there if you need anything." All he got was a nod in return. This wasn't like Italy at all. Usually he would babble about pasta or some other useless topic and cling to Germany. But Germany wasn't here and Italy was quiet, to the point that it sounded like he wasn't even there.

England prepared the coffee and tea as he said he would, but kept an eye on Italy, who feeling his gaze glanced up from his work. England gasped and returned to the task in front of him. There was no way what he saw was real. It was just his mind playing a trick on him or the light or the distance or, God forbid, he was getting old. There was no way that those dead, hollow eyes belonged to the vibrant, talkative idiot that was the Italy that he has known for years. He would have to ask Germany if something had happened to cause this change in Italy.

England chanced one last peak at Italy before continuing on with his usual pre-meeting tasks. Yes. He would have to ask Germany once he got there.

~*~*~* Time skip: 30 min*~*~*~

Nearly all the countries had arrived and were seated. All but Germany and Spain. Germany they were used to being late. After all he usually was dragging Italy out of bed several times just to make it to the meeting five minutes late. Spain usually was here smiling like an idiot with a scowling Romano next to him. Therein was the problem that all the nations, save for Greece who was a asleep again, saw. Both Italy's were present. Romano was scowling at anybody and everybody, while his brother sat there cool and collected. Neither commented on the lack of their respective 'partners', as the world referred to them. That alone caught everyone by surprise. Though, if anyone felt like voicing their thoughts, it seemed as both halves of Italy seemed unphased at the absence, almost like they expected it.

Once more Italy shocked the world. "Ve~ I don't think Germania o Spagna are coming today. We should begin." Romano just 'humphed' in agreement before sinking in his chair. Several nations just shook their heads, not trusting their ears at the moment. While several other mumbled words of agreement or disbelief. Despite the oddity of every meeting they had always run with the same type of format. This meeting though was going to be the strangest yet, at least, the world thought so.

~*~*~* Time skip: 1 hr*~*~*~

The meeting had gone just as Feliciano had planed. No one had expected his insight or comments. Nor his confidence when talking with others. Russia bringing up the recent deaths of his Mob members just made everything that much easier for him. Felicano just smiled. Not saying a word. No one made it seem like they noticed, but Felicano was sure that they had. The room itself felt tense. Something was about to break. He could feel it.

"SIE DENKEN, DASS SIE MICH DRAUSSEN BEHALTEN KÖNNEN!"

All heads looked towards the door. Most flinched when it was brutally kicked open. Feli just chuckled. Prussia stood seething in the door's wake, wearing his usual black and white on black attire. His red eyes flashed with anger and his white hair looked more messed up then usual.

"Vhere is he!" Feli chuckled some more.

"Gilbert, who are you dalking aboud?" Aw, good ol' Austria.

"Feliciano! North Idaly!" Of course. Must be about Ludwig.

"Ve~ Why?" Oh, how such an innocent question can hold such a painful answer.

"You know vhy! Ludvid came home vith a bullet in his arm and looked stoned! He vas shaking and mumbling _your_ name! I vant to know exactly vat happened do him!" So this is about Ludwig.

"Ve~ If you think I shot him, then you're wrong. It was Russia's men that shot him. I was in the bathroom." The warm smile on his lips faded to a hollow smirk.

The world watched as Felicano got up, placed his fedora on his head and grabbed his briefcase. The brunette walked slowly over to Prussia. The hollow smirk never faltering. North Italy stopped directly in front of Prussia. His brown eyes held red ones. He spoke with no emotion. Words empty of the warmth and feeling that the world had come to expect when speaking with the Italian.

"As for his state. I'm afraid that he found out a truth that he couldn't handle." All of Prussia's anger melted into realization. Ludwig had seen this version of Italy and it broke him. No one who was supposed to be so warm should ever be so dead.

Italy walked passed him. Not even stopping to throw back another statement at Prussia. "You shouldn't worry about the man who shot Germany. I made sure he is returning home punished." Then he was gone. Through the splintered door frame, into the unforgiving world of men.

Prussia stood in shock as he stared at Austria and Hungry. Neither of them knew what to saw or if they should say anything at all. The world had just witnessed an event that none had expected. Even Russia stood in quiet contemplation. He never would have thought that it was the bumbling fool North Italy he was facing in this clash of wills.

The whole room was quiet. No outbursts or arguments. No decelerations or laughter. Just a tense, puzzled quiet. Broken only by a quiet, saddened voice pleading to God in a broken mixture of English, Latin, and Italian to save his brother.

A/N: Okay I know it's not very long, but I wanted to get something to you guys quickly. I actually had planned on going in a different direction, but I liked this way better. Prussia may have more of a part of this story then I was originally planning. Next up! A drunk Germany and Spain! And who knows maybe Prussia and France will be the ones to figure out everything. With the help of Austria and Hungry of course. But will it be to late? Will Russia get his revenge of Italy before they can solve this mystery? I really need to stop watching murder shows...I would also like to apologize for the time skips. I'm just not as up to date with current events and politics to actually write a good meeting. (In other words I cheated. I know. Xp)

_**Transulations:**_

_**Buon giorno, Inghilterra – Good morning, England (Ita)**_

_**Germania o Spagna – Germany or Spain (Ita)**_

_**Sie denken, dass Sie mich draußen behalten können! – You think you can keep me outside! (Ger)**_

_**Names:**_

_**Ludwig – Germany**_

_**Feliciano – Italy**_

_**Romano – Lovino/South Italy/Lovi**_

_**Gilbert – Prussia**_


	8. Ch 7: Das Licht Am Ende Der Welt

**A/N:** HEY GUYS! I'm back with another update that _isn't _six months later. I know a miracle! But what can I say, when you're on YouTube and you're flipping through some songs by a German band or two that you like and you find a song that smacks you in the face and screams 'PLOT BUNNY ATTACK!' you really can't say no... I tried. Even went shopping. But it didn't go away. Which I'm fine with. I'm fairly happy with this chapter/filler. Not sure what to call it, but I hope you guys like it!

Ch. 7: Das Licht Am Ende Der Welt

What feeling feels like over time. An attempt to screw up what feeling feels like over time. Heartbreak and a high C... The often welcome melodic lie... The soul's undersong. The orchestration of randomness, a flirtation with the boundaries of silence and space... a reminder that the self wants to disappear, be taken away from itself and returned. ~Stephen Dunn, about music

Feliciano stood alone. The canvas in front of him had taken years to complete. Floor to ceiling, wall to wall. Colors blending perfectly. It was all he had left of his happiness. All he had left of love. A single painting. Of a better time. Here he never had to pretend. Here he never had to be numb. Here he could be himself. Here he could feel. This place, this room, with one a four walls, a canvas full of life, and a single chair, was his Heaven on Earth. No one to yell at him. To tell him to be someone else. He he was free.

The room was free of dust. Feliciano had always taken great pride in his cleaning abilities. This room was a testament to that. Siting in the worn chair, the brunette sang softly to the image in front of him.

_ Because he liked it when I sang._

The words filled the room. Soft notes, filled with the remnants of emotion. All the feeling he could muster. A language not his own, but one he knew just as well. A modern song that shook with the feelings he had been harboring for centuries, but couldn't seem to actually feel.

_'Hör die Gesänge der Gespenster_

_Warum bin ich nicht taub_

_Nacht besiegt das Sonnenlicht_

_Sie kriecht aus ihrem Loch_

_Panik wächst mir ins Gesicht_

_Wie lange noch_

_Endlichkeit umfängt mich_

_In dieser Halluzination_

_Ich kämpfe gegen mich allein  
Viel zu lange schon_

_Zeig mir das Licht am Ende der Welt  
Nimm mich mit ans Ende der Zeit  
Zeig mir den Weg und das Ziel  
Reich mir die Hand die mich hält  
Zeig mir das Licht am Ende der Welt  
Zeig mir das Licht...'_

Lovino leaned against the door, listening to his brother's voice. Years he'd done this. Finding out what his brother had become had nearly killed him. Knowing he had played a part ate at him everyday. When Feliciano hid away in his 'special room' it was the only time Lovino could feel in any way close to him.

_'Kalte Hände an der Kehle_

_Ich fühle nichts mehr_

_Die Nacht regiert das Leben schweigt_

_Und legt sich in sein Grab_

_Ich lege mich an seine Seite_

_Und warte auf den Tag'_

He knew this song. He remembered when Feliciano came home (one of the few times he was actually at their house and not with Spain) clutching a CD case. When he had asked, Feliciano had said it was something from Gilbert. The song was the only thing he herd the entire time he was home. It was part of the reason he escaped back to Spain. He wished he hadn't. He wished he had been there when Feli needed him most. But he never was and now he never would be enough. He would forever be one of the brothers that had abandoned him. Tears ran down Lovino's cheeks as he cried into his knees. He had let his brother down and God was punishing him for it.

_'Befrei mich aus der Dunkelheit_

_Zeig mir das Licht das Leben macht_

_Damit der Sturm in Meinem Kopf sich legt_

_Am Ende dieser Nacht'_

Confused. He had never felt so confused in his whole life. His best friend, was, was. He couldn't even say the words to himself. Feliciano, wasn't Feliciano. The man he knew for years didn't exist. How? Why? When did it happen? Was he to fault?

_'Zeig mir das Licht am Ende der Welt_

_Nimm mich mit ans Ende der Zeit_

_Zeig mir den Weg und das Ziel_

_Reich mir die Hand die mich hält_

_Zeig mir das Licht am Ende der Welt'_

Another swallow of the cool liquid helped to ease his overtaxed mind. The fog it brought helped to make the confusion and hurt go away. For days he kept himself in this blissful state. Numbed to the worries of his mind and his brother. But even in the blurry relief that his precious beer brought to him he knew. He knew that he had to solve the riddle that Italy set before him.

_If I ever was his ally, friend, I will save him. I must._

The ceiling had never seemed so far away from him before. His outstretched hand seemed so close to the ceiling. But it wasn't. Just like this whole situation. West nearly comatose on beer. Italy colder than that bastard Russia's territory. Romano not shocked. The whole thing was just fucked up.

"Scheiße!" Flinging himself into a sitting position on the edge of his bed, Prussia stared at the floor. He remembered the day that Austria had brought the little guy to live with him. He had never seen such a cute kid before, well except for Holy Rome...Red eyes widened at the thought. _Holy Rome..._

_'Hilf mir mich nicht zu verliern_

_Hilf mir die Hoffnung zu sehn_

_Es gibt so viel zu bereun_

_Es gibt so viel zu verstehn'_

"Is dat vhat happened Feli? Is dat vhat caused you do break? Did ve do dis do you?" For the first time in years, Prussia let himself cry. He had found the answer he had spent the days after the World Meeting looking for. That one moment in history that had destroyed someone important to him. And he didn't do a thing to make amends. He didn't even try to prevent France from harming his little brother. He could have done something. He could have told Holy Rome that he would take charge of the troops. Or gone against his Leader and took the blow or just stopped France. He could have stalled and let the young nation run and hide. But he hadn't he fought the battles he was told to fight and _listened_ to his leader, not something he usually did. His best friend killed his little brother, that's what Italy thought. That's what everyone thought. He _would_ rectify things. He _would _make right what was wrong. He had to. Both his precious little brother and a close friend very lives were at stake.

Prussia looked in the direction that he knew Ludwig would be. Tears still running down his pale face. The words were barely audible to the small yellow mass of feathers currently on his head.

"Erinnern Sie sich an ihn überhaupt, Westen?"

_'Hilf mir mich nicht zu verliern_

_Nie wieder einsam zu sein_

_Sag mir ich bin nicht allein!'_

So many questions. Far to many. It seemed like it would take years, decades – no centuries – to answer. How had cute little Ita turned into someone so cold? Where had they gone wrong? Romano had known. His precious toamoto pequeño had known about Feli. Had known he had changed. Why hadn't he seen it? Why hadn't he known? Had he really just brushed Feli off like that?

_'Zeig mir das Licht am Ende der Welt_

_Nimm mich mit ans Ende der Zeit_

_Zeig mir den Weg und das Ziel_

_Reich mir die Hand die mich hält_

_Zeig mir das Licht am Ende der Welt'_

He needed to find out. He needed to know. To understand. To _see._ If he was responsible, then he had to make it right! He couldn't be the Boss Spain that he had tried so hard to be if he let one of his subordinates continue to hurt! He would find Germany and ask him a ton of questions. Then he would track down Romano and do the same thing.

Emerald eyes flashed with determination and a ferocity none had seen since his pirate days. He would protect those he cared for no matter what, no matter who. Even if the enemy was himself. He was Boss Spain. And no one messed with his cute Italians. No one.

The world continued to spin. People continued on with their lives. Nations, though confused, stayed out of affairs that didn't directly concern their territory or political standings. No one herd the sobs of southern have of Italy. No one herd the quiet voice of the nation's northern half. Life moved forward, not caring who it left behind or what state they were in.

_'Zeig mir das Licht am Ende der Welt_

_Nimm mich mit ans Ende der Zeit_

_Zeig mir was ich noch nie sah_

_Wo noch kein anderer war_

_Zeig mir das Licht am Ende der Welt_

_Zeig mir das Licht...'_

A/N: There it is! Hope you guys enjoyed it. I also want to thank all of you who have reviewed. It really does lift my spirits and motivates me to keep going. Also to all of you who have fav'd this story or have added me to alert list, thank you as well. I smile and giggle like an idiot when I open my email and find out I have knew people reading. My Grammy thinks I'm a little weird when I burst out like that...But all is well! See ya next chapter.

~JG

_**Translations:**_

_**Song is called 'Das Licht Am Ende Der Welt' by Megaherz.**_

_**(For song lyrics and tranulation go here – http :/lyr icstran slate .com/ en/d as-licht -am-end e-der-welt-li ght-end -world. Html (just remove the spaces))(Ger.)**_

_**Erinnern Sie sich an ihn überhaupt, Westen?**_ – **_Do you remember him at all, West? (Ger.)_**

_**Toamoto pequeño – Little tomato**_

_**Names:**_

_**Ludwig – Germany**_

_**Feliciano/Feli/Ita – Italy**_

_**Lovino/Lovi/Romano – South Italy**_

_**Gilbert – Prussia**_

_**Antonio/Boss Spain – Spain (I know. I never mentioned his human name and Boss Spain is obvious, but I wanted to include all the major players of this chapter/ filler thing.)**_


	9. Ch 8: Do Not Ask Questions

**A/N:** BAAAAACK! sorry. I didn't know where I wanted to go with this chapter without giving away to much information. I wanted certain things to be kept a secret until the right time so this chapter was a lot harder to write because of that. I feel that I did the job I set out to do. I have left you several clues in past chapters as well as this one. The games afoot! Now go find Watson and have a jolly good time figuring out the mystery. And for the record: I DON'T OWN HETALIA OR SHERLOCK HOMES OR ANY OF THE MUSIC THAT MAY SHOW UP IN THIS FIC! That is all.

Ch. 8: Do Not Ask Questions You Do Not Want To Know The Answers To

* * *

"It is always the simple things that change our lives. And these things never happen when you are looking for them to happen. Life will reveal answers at the pace life wishes to do so. You feel like running, but life is on a stroll. This is how God does things."

~Donald Miller quotes

* * *

Spain had made it to Germany in record time. His car sat in the small driveway and his determination stood in the forefront of his mind, keeping him from running back to said vehicle and pretend everything was going to work out in the end. He _was_ Boss Spain. Nothing could change that. Nothing could alter that. If he was responsible in anyway for Feliciano's change in behavior, he had to make it right. _Had_ _to._ It was his duty. His goal.

Spain had never been a truly goal oriented nation like America or Germany, he rarely set goals other then 'make Romano happy today' or 'keep the tomatoes growing well' or other things like that. Little things. Taking charge of a situation like this was not how Spain usually handled anything, but for his Lovi and Feli he would do anything. He liked to see them happy, even if he knew he couldn't be a part of their lives or that future decisions may hurt them a bit. He never thought he could hurt either of them, but seeing his Lovi broken, pleading to God in a voice that sounded like a small child or hearing the cold, hollow voice of his precious Ita. It nearly killed him to think about it. And that is why he was here. In Germany. Now.

He knocked. No one answered. He knocked again. No one answered. A little frustrated that he knew they were home, both cars were present, and that Germany never ignored a guest, Prussia was usually a bit late, but had always opened up before, he knocked again. Harder then last time. Much harder. The door swung open under the extra pressure. The doorway was dark. The light of the afternoon sun creeping it's way inside the now exposed home. The pungent smell of beer assaulted his nose and caused him to cough and gag. Prussia wasn't kidding that Germany wasn't doing to well. Or was this Prussia's doing in reaction to how Ita had talked to him. After all. Prussia had been face to face with him. He had seen what Germany had seen and what if he broke too?

Worry over his friend had him running through the house trying to find his old friend. He checked upstairs, the kitchen, the living room – only a passed out Germany was found there – he'd checked nearly the whole house when a crash and German swears had him racing towards the basement.

"¡Gilberto! ¡Mi amigo! ¿¡Es bien!" A few more swears and another, smaller, crash and Gilbert's hair became visible in the low light of the basement.

"Scheiße! Antonio? How many dimes do I have do say don't call me 'Gilberto'? It's nod an awesome version of mein name!" His red eyes glared in his friends direction as he tried to get out from underneath his box prison.

Spain laughed in relief and set about releasing Gilbert from the boxes. The silver haired man's freedom was meet with a shout of victory before a swift kick into the side of an old box. Said box broke open at impact and it's contents spilled out over the floor. Gilbert once more began to swear before looking down at the contents. Red eyes widened. His voice caught in his throat. He had found it. Unexpectedly, but he had found it.

Spain looked on as Prussia gingerly picked up the black cloak. The hat that came next had him gasping in shock. So this is why Prussia came down here. To dig through old memories and decades past. Basements and attics became archives and museums for Nations. Their lives spanned centuries so they tended to accumulate far more stuff then the average human. Any museum curator in the world would have a heart attack if they saw any of the 'historical artifacts' that they had each ended up with over the years. Letters from kings and princes. Military leaders and common folk. People they had _known_ at one time or another. Old uniforms, worn and well used, packed carefully in decaying boxes were a common thing. The only time any Nation choose to go any where near these stores of the past were if the were moving – which happened rarely thanks to the government – and if they got brave and attempted to 'spring clean'. So far only America had been known to try that. Once. And as far anyone knew, he hadn't tried it since.

"You were looking for _his_ things then, amigo?" Gilbert didn't answer. He just stood there holding his little brother's things close. If Antonio didn't know Gil better he would say that his face was blank. But he did know him better. He could tell that his friend was in pain. He could see the tears in the corners of his crimson eyes.

Spain placed his hand in his friends shoulder. He didn't have to say anything. His presence was enough. He knew that, but he wanted to do more. To heal the wound his friend still held. To help close the all to fresh cut that still lay across his heart. But there was nothing that he could do for Gilbert the time had not done already or would do if allowed.

"Dis is vhy." Antonio blinked. Gilbert's voice was sad, but serious. Serious was something that Gilbert rarely was. This ment something.. It had to, but exactly what? He came for answers to questions he had yet to ask, but the Prussian's statement. Why did it sound like the answer he was looking for?

"¿Qué?" Gilbert turned around. His crimson eyes blazing with a fire he had not seen since the Thirty Year war.

"Vhat happened do Feli. Dis is vhat. De vone moment in all of hisdory dat impacted him de most. His _death._" He said the word as if it was going to harm him. His face falling. Tears actually falling down his face. The proud Nation of Prussia fell to the floor in tears, clinging to the hat and cloak of a young Nation who never had the time to truly live, despite finding love.

Spain stood in shock. He could have done something. Protected what meant the most to Italy. But he hadn't he had listened t his _Boss._ He had left Ita to wait for a love that would forever be forgotten. Tears began to fall from his eyes to. Tears of anger and pain. Sorrow and regret. How could he have been so blind? Italy had been a child then. Same as him. Children should not fight the wars of men. They should laugh and play. Paint and catch firefly's with friends. But they just let a child go off to war. To death itself without so much as a word of advice. With out so much as attempting to stop him. Then he had kept his only remaining family away. He had been betrayed by the ones who said that they loved him and would protect him. They were responsible. They were the cause. Not just Gil for not running into battle with his brother. Not just him for keeping Romano away when his twin needed him most. But France and Austria and Hungary and, and...It was their fault. All of them. The adults. The ones that said that they knew _better._ But they didn't Ita had told them that going off to war wasn't good. That it would just cause pain for everyone in the end. A child who had never been into battle knew what battle was better then they who had spent years of of their lives fighting. He knew now why Gilbert was dragging razors over old wounds. This problem was older then anyone had thought. It wasn't because they didn't him any attention or treat him like the oblivious, care-free, naive boy they had help raise. It was because if they didn't reopen some of these wounds. Didn't remember the old days, they might loose someone important to them. They would Italy...Feliciano...if they did nothing. He under stood now.

The tears fell to ground harder with every revelation. With every new thought a blade was thrust deeper and deeper into his very soul. Gilbert felt it. It was why he was crying. Sobbing into his brothers clothes. It was why he, Boss Spain, was now kneeling on the floor crying as if he had been kicked in his vital regions. He had found the answer to many of his questions and he didn't like them, but he couldn't turn them away. They wouldn't let him.

Two nations, that the world had never seen cry, sat in the basement of a world power, that was intoxicated past his limit, in tears of pain, guilt and regret. Time would heal them this time. This wound had been a blow made worse _with_ time. They wouldn't let it have it's way with them this time. They would act. They would fight. They _**would**_ succeed in fixing their friend. But the cost of realization was their strength. Fatigue pushed it's way past their pain. A sedative to their injured minds. Sleep fell quickly upon them. Bring the sweet relief of bitter sweet dreams.

* * *

**A/N: **So tell me Holmes, where are the clues taking you? Do you know yet? Has the picture become clearer or has the clue been obscured by trying to figure the answer out to fast? Watson won't give you the answer Holmes, he can just guide you. I am your Moriarty. You are my Holmes. Let us make this ne thrilling mystery, shall we?

_**Transulations:**_

¡Gilberto! ¡Mi amigo! ¿¡Es bien! - Gilbert! My friend! You okay? (Spa)

Scheiße - Shit (Ger)

Mein - My (Ger)

¿Qué? - What (Spa)


	10. Ch 9: Grün

The room was dark, but light filtered in a thin line though the doorway. He didn't know where he was. Who he was. It felt like the darkness in the room had found a way into his head. Clouding it in blissful peace. But reality is harsh. She does not like anything taking away from the chaos or pain that she gives to others. Memories began to float around in his head. Thoughts and fears. Everything from the last, he didn't even know how long, came back to him in painful, blaring flashes. Sickly sweet and laced with poison.

He sat up, ignoring the stiffness in his limbs and the dryness of his throat. Empty bottles littered the floor and a few fell off of him at his movement. He cringed. The hangover he was starting to feel he could handle. He'd had them before. But the mess he had left his house to endure, that he could not. He slowly began to stand, only to stumble a bit. He made it out of the room. The hall was lit with daylight. The open front door a glaringly obvious clash to the dusky interior that his house had become. He grunted. His need to speak to his brother taking priority. He had made a vow in his drunken state. He knew he did. Even the alcohol and it sweet relieving effects could not make him forget Italy, nor the feeling of obligation to him. His heart was breaking at the thought of Italy, but his conviction to save him was as good of a temporary patch as he could manage at the moment. He needed to talk with Gilbert. He needed to talk to someone. The beer had not alleviated his pain. Not at all. He needed his brother to tell him that things will get better. Will go back to how they were.

He was about to go upstairs, but the light of the basement, heck the open basement door, drew him down into its depths. He was surprised to find that the stairs didn't make a sound under his weight. His hazy mind staring at his feet in disbelief. He had made it to the bottom before even realizing it.

Germany ran a hand over his face. He needed to wake up. His mind needed to be focused, not half asleep. He looked around his basement, taking careful note of the two asleep nations hidden amongst the numerous boxes. He made a mental note to clean it up sometime. Weaving his way though the box maze he stopped short of his older brother. A black cloth had wrapped around his bruder's arm. A small hat lay under his hand. Inching closer he slowly pulled the hat to him. Picking it up he began a simple investigation of it. His fingers brushed the fabric. Over the golden pin, that shown dully in the florescent light. The haze in his mind had cleared from the beer, but it felt like there was something he was missing. Something felt out of place. He set the hat down and proceeded to the broken box. The corner a picture frame was poking out of a hole, no doubt of his brother's making.

The box opened easily under his hands, breaking apart ever so slightly. It must be an old box. One of Gilbert's maybe? But then why did he feel he knew the hat? And the black cloth around Gilbert's arm gave him the same uneasy feeling. He paused a moment, searching his mind for any reason why he would know the objects. He closed his eyes. Harder he searched. Going into the deepest part of his mind.

Laughter. A child's laughter. His? Or someone else's? He reached towards the laughter. He opened his eyes. Grass. And blue sky. The laughter was behind him now. He turned, careful not to scare the memory away. Green. The room phased back into focus. The room spinning and sound muffled like a layer of water or glass had gotten between him and everything.

" –udwig? Ludwig? You alright? Bruder look ad me." Gilbert? He turned to look at his brother, eyes unfocused. The laughter rang n his ears. It wasn't his. He knew that now. But whose was it? The one in green?

"Bruder?" His voice sounded hollow and small. The effects of the hangover came at him full force along with the memories of Italy. His legs gave out. He reached out for support only to have the box give way under him. He rubbed his head then his shoulder as he picked himself off of the floor. Opening his eyes when he heard snickering he froze. Green.

The picture frame he had seen earlier wrapped its way around the canvas. The picture was old and not done by an experts hand, yet it was not quite an armature's work. The colors were faded but visable. A child lay still in eternal sleep. A moment in time captured in the strokes of a brush. The main canvas was white, but the child was wrapped in vivid color. Light brown hair, fair skin, green dress. He reached out a hand, his fingers ghosting over the image. Why did his chest hurt? Why did he feel like crying or was he actually crying? He turned to look at his brother, confusion and pain etched in his features. Gilbert turned away. His eyes shut and his shoulders slumped.

"Bruder, ve need do dalk."

_** I ish back! One more clue to add to your pile. Now here's a question to you, if I promise cyber-scooby snacks, will you review?**_


	11. Ch 10: Knowing

Ch. 10: Knowing

"_It is always the simple things that change our lives. And these things never happen when you are looking for them to happen. Life will reveal answers at a pace life wishes to do so. You feel like running, but life is on a stroll. This is how God does things."_

_~Donald Miller_

A month had passed since the world had discovered the hidden change in northern Italy. Romano had not been seen since, rumor had it that he had holed himself up in Spain's house. Prussia had all but kidnapped his brother, as Prussia would not allow anyone to visit. Hungary and Austria were both beside themselves. Elizabeta had not smiled nor Roderich play any form of uplifting music since the world meeting. The world had shifted. Those confident in how things were now confused and questioned the certainty that they had built their lives around, while those with more open minds, willing to see the world as a strange and fantastical place of fantasy and magic, had a hard time believing in the reality set before them. No one understood what had happened to the annoyingly bubbly Italian they all loved and hated. No one could fathom the severity of the situation or its complexity. No one was sure of what it meant for the future. Everyone was worried, confused or reluctant to believe it was anything but a bad dream. For now though the world would wait. Wait and watch for any changes, shifts in the new status quo, praying that the equilibrium that they knew as the norm would return to them.

**~* In Germany*~**

"Bruder! Vhad exacdly is id dat you are nod delling me!?" Ludwig had finally cornered his brother. He was going to get his answers, one way or another. After all, Prussia had said that the needed to talk almost a month ago. Italy had been warring against Russia for almost a month. Germany felt as if time was slipping away from him. Valuable time. Time needed for him to save his Italian. No. Not his. Where had that thought come from anyways? Germany didn't know. It felt right though, somehow. He pushed it from his mind as he stared at his shorter brother.

To Gilbert, time was slow, gnawing, and painful. He felt the past forcing itself upon the present. Memories from so long ago, so long repressed, surged forward. It left him an emotional mess. He had been trying for a month to say something, to tell Germany everything. He wanted to. Tried to, but his own sorrows and guilt got in the way and stole his voice. He looked at the blond he had raised for so long. He was no longer the confused little kid, but a strong man, yet the look in his eyes, the confusion, made the years fall off of him, leaving the vulnerable little kid he had found wandering the woods.

"Bruderlin." Gilbert cringed internally at his voice. It sounded heavy. _Old._ It sounded as if the years of his long life had wrapped itself up in that one word. He didn't like it. Was this what guilt did? Aged you? Gilbert didn't want to think about it. Instead he forced more words out of his mouth.

"Bruderlin, vergeben Sie bitte mich." The words were laced with more sorrow and guilt than Ludwig thought his brother could ever posses. The Silver haired man had always seemed so happy and laid back. Now he sounded, well, pitiful. "I have kepd a secred from you, from everyvone. I see now dat I vas wrong. Vergeben Sie bitte mich." Prussia took a deep breath to steady himself, he would not break this time. "Ludvig, you vere vonce a gread nation. An empire!" Pride had weaved its way into Prussia's words. He had always been proud of the blond, then and now. He always would be, as a big brother should. "You unided almosd all of Europe! Had been sdrong, bud you vere sdill only a kid. Ve should have never led you go off do fighd. Scheiße! I should have never led you go off on your own!" Germany could hear the self-loathing in Prussia's voice. He could see the pain his brother was in. He didn't know what to do, so he listened as Prussia ranted on about how he was an idiot and God should punish him, and something about willingly subjecting himself to Russia's tortures if it meant he could take back the pain he had caused. Germany didn't exactly like that one.

"Bruder, you vere vone of de mosd awesome nations of the all dime. Historians sdill dalk aboud you, Heiligen römischen Reichs. They sdill admire you!" Gilbert's face was the most serious he had seen it in a long time, but that was not what caused Germany to freeze up. Holy Roman Empire? He, representation of Germany, had been _the_ Holy Roman Empire? The empire that he had admired the most, second only to the Roman Empire. That Holy Roman Empire?

'Remember. I have to try.' He hadn't tried to remember who he was in a long time. Prussia had told him that to keep trying may just lead him to more answers than questions or more pain, so he had just stopped trying. It wasn't like he needed to remember the past to move into the future.

"_Hehe! Ve~ Santa Roma!" That voice. Germany let himself follow it. The laughter was the same as when he had seen that painting. "Ve~ Santa Roma!" he let the voice take it's hold on him, opening himself to it. He was never one to let his guard down, but he _trusted_ the voice. It was warm, safe, loving, everything that he could have ever wanted. He immersed himself into it. _

_ "Santa Roma! You'll never guess what Mister Austria said!" The voice was behind him? He turned and opened his eyes slowly, scared that the childish voice would leave. A young girl stood smiling at him. She wore the oddest maids outfit. It was spring green. Most maids wore black and white. He could tell she was a child by her looks and voice, yet she was nearly eye level. Or had he shrunk? Was this a memory? Or a dream? _

_ She seemed to be expecting an answer. He opened his mouth and spoke. "Vhat?" His voice was higher. Much higher. It still was familiar, his, but not his. Younger, more childish. _

_ "He said we could play all day today! Isn't it appena grande!?" She laughed more, twirling in place. "Sister Hungary made him! She was all scary, threatening him with her frying pan like she does Big brother France, but he said we could play all day! Hehe! Ve~ No chores for a whole day!" She started laughing and twirling more. He could feel a smile from on his face. Her smile and laughter was just contagious. He couldn't help himself. _

_ She stopped her twirling and came close to him. Her eyes turning into liquid pools of amber in the sunlight. Her smile making his chest tighten and his stomach flutter. Her soft reddish brown hair was messy. The light breeze catching strands of it and causing them to dance, especially the one odd one on the side of her head. The one curl that looked strangely like Italy's. That bounced like Italy's when he stood still during training with his arms spread wide as if trying to catch the wind. Germany looked over every inch of the girl's face. It was all there, how had he missed it? How had he not noticed sooner?_

_ "Italien?" The girl in the green dress giggled some more and took off running. He shouted Italy's name, his human name, not his countries. The girl, no boy, stopped. _

_ "Feli! Feli!" Germany called desperately after him. Trying to move, trying to get to his love. He needed to. Feli needed him! He had to get to him! _

_ The young Italian turned towards him. The same bright smile was plastered on Italy's young lips, but it looked so wrong, so off. Italy's eyes, they were the problem. They were cold, nothing like the warm eyes that his dear Italy had. They shined with deep pain. Sorrow running so close to the brown haired nation's soul that it felt like it was going to consume him. The dead eyes of the Italy he had seen at the restaurant the reason Prussia was acting so weird. The reason he had nearly sent himself into a beer induced coma. The look on his friends, his loves face, was familiar though. He had seen a similar version somewhere before. But where?_

_ 'I have to leave, so you can feel at ease.' He remembered. When he left to fight the Thirty Years War, Italy had had that look in his eyes until he had had said that he, that he liked him. Had kissed him…._

_ 'No matter how many years pass, I like you most in the world!' He had left for was happy. Had left with the intention of coming back. Of seeing Italy again. But the war had gone bad, those he thought would support him didn't and he was dissolved. But he was still alive. He was no longer the Holy Roman Empire, he was Germany, but he was still the same person. Still loved Italy. He had always known that Italy meant something to him, now he knew what. He knew what he had to do. He __**would**__save Italy. He had to._

"—vig! Lugvig! Come on bruderlin! Vake up! OI!" Germany groaned. His head hurt. Why did his head hurt? Flashes of colors and sounds had him sitting upright. That's right. He was the Holy Roman Empire, or rather, had been. Italy was in danger or himself and the world was currently really messed up. Germany stood up and Prussia followed.

"Ludvig! Stop! You jusd fainded and now you need do dake id easy!" Prussia grabbed Germany's sleeve and pulled him to a stop.

"Nein, bruder. I need do save mein kleines Italien." The look on Germany's face told Gilbert that his brother remembered, something. A very important something.

"Den vat are ve vaiding for!? Kommen Sie an!"

**~*In Italy*~**

He was having so much fun. The Russian's thought he was a pushover, that all Italians were pushovers. Oh, how he proved them wrong. So far the Italians had had the upper hand. They had lost the least in the way of supplies and men.

Russia himself was starting to feel the effects of their little war, or so went the rumors went. He had already sent a letter from the large nation. He was broken, but he was not unreasonable. Italy knew better than anyone what a long war does, or a prolonged period of fighting. He had seen it with Grandpa Rome, the World Wars, and with _him._ He closed his eyes. Now was not the time. He had papers to look over. Germany would have a heart attack, heck maybe a stroke if he ever that he had thought – or said – that. A quiet knock on his office door brought him out of his thoughts.

"Entrare." He kept his gaze down at his paperwork as his secretary walked in. She walked up to the desk and held out an envelope carefully, as if it might bite her.

"Signore, the Russian's have responded." He took the letter and looked it over carefully. Detecting no anomalies or traps he began to open it.

"Lei è congedato." He had the envelope open and the letter out and red by the time the door was once more firmly shut. A wide smile overtook the Italian's face. It seemed like Russia wanted to meet at the next UN meeting. So they would be having their parley. He set the letter down and picked up the desk phone. He was going to call his men off, if only part way. A cease fire of sorts. No use in spoiling a potential partnership before it could have the chance to bloom.

**OMFG! I ISH ALIVE AND UPDATING! I knows it has been awhile. This chappie has given me a lot of frustration. I have to say that I had it started like 20 different ways going in, like, 20 different directions plot wise. But I have a direction now so all is good. Also thank bordem and my forensic science class. It is what prompted me to start writing…..and my boyfriend. He keeps bugging me about not updating this fic….so ya. LOVE YOU GUYS!**

**Translations: **

**Bruder - Brother (German)**

**Bruderlin – Little btother (German)**

**vergeben Sie bitte mich – Please forgive me (German)**

**Scheiße – Shit ****(German)**

**Heiligen römischen Reichs – Holy Roman Empire (German)**

**Santa Roma – Holy Rome (Italian)**

**appena grande – Just great (Italian)**

**Italien – Italy (German)**

**Nein – No (German)**

**mein kleines Italien – My little Italy (German)**

**Kommen Sie an – Come on (German)**

**Entrare – Come in (Italian)**

**Lei è congedato – You are dismissed (Italian)**

**Names:**

**You should know them by now…..**


	12. Ch 11: Plans

Ch. 11

"I think if I've learned anything about friendship, it's to hang in, stay connected, fight for them, and let them fight for you. Don't walk away, don't be distracted, don't be too busy or tired, don't take them for granted. Friends are part of the glue that holds life and faith together. Powerful stuff."

~ Jon Katz

The sun shone bright in Vienna. The breeze was soft. Cooling tourists and residents alike. Romano steadily walked towards his destination. Spain had been very against his decision to come here. To leave the house. _Very_ against it. He had almost gone Conquistador on him. Romano would never admit it but it had been really frighting, considering the brunettes usual carefree nature. Not that Romano hadn't been subjected to that behavior before, though it was rare.

'Stupid Tomato Bastard. Doesn't he realize I have to do this? He's my fratello.' Romano took in a shaky breath. Now was not the time to let his emotions control him. He had a mission to complete. A mission that, if all went well, would give him help for his cause. Help to fix his brother. Spain walked behind his friend, silent, watching for any indication that this was the wrong thing to do. He could easily see how much pain Romano was in. He could feel some of it, as his own heart broke at the thought of the other Italian. But was rounding up a group of people who thought that they knew Italy the way to go about helping Italy? Or was this all going to back fire and hurt them all? Italy included...

It was a long walk from the city to Roderich's house, or rather small mansion. Being Nations did have it's advantages, one of them being that you got to own some pretty amazing homes. Sure they could haven gotten a cab at the airport or have had Antonio drive them, but Romano had said that he needed the time to think. To pull his thoughts together. To steel his resolve. Spain could see jut how much this meant to him. It was the only reason he had agreed to let him do this, but that still didn't mean he like it.

They maid it to the large house. It was the same as always. Large, neat, Austrian...Romano shook as he held his hand up to knock, silently praying for no one to answer, yet for someone to answer. The moments after the action seemed long as he waited for the door to open. Just as he was going to give up and leave, or start yelling, the door opened to a surprised Hungary.

"Oh, Romano, vhat are you doing here?" Romano balled his hands into fists and glared at the brunette.

"I'm here to save my fratello." Hungry blinked in shock. Romano's tone left no room for arguments.

"Vell then, come in. Austria is in the music room staring at his piano. I'll show you-"

"I still remember the way, damn it." Romano cut off heading straight for the other occupant of the house. He pushed past Hungry with an irritated growl. Spain shot her an apologetic smile.

"Sorry about that. He's gotten himself all worked up." Hungry shook her head.

"I would be too if I were him. Shall we?" she gestured in the direction Romano took off. Spain nodded.

_~Meanwhile with the German brothers~_

"Vest are you sure aboud dis?" For the twenty seventh time in the past hour Prussia had questioned his brother, who always gave the same answer.

"East, I have do." Yep the same answer every time. "Dis is my fauld." That was new.

"Was!?" Gilbert looked at him in surprise. Had he figured out what he had? That? Shit.

"I didn'd keep my promise. I didn'd come back. I lefd him vaiding for me." Ludwig's voice dropped to a whisper as drove toward the few people he knew would help. "Alone." Ludwig knew that there was much he did not remember of being the Holy Roman Empire. He knew that there were many precious memories that were lost to him for now. But he did know that Italy had felt alone, abandoned. He had heard Feliciano cry in his room at night, wishing on a star r praying to God that he wouldn't have to be alone anymore. That he would have someone there to take away his pain. Ludwig remembered going back to his room after those nights and would wish, pray, and hope to be the one to take way Italy's pain. And he had. Up until he hadn't.

Germany gripped the wheel of his car tightly as he turned onto the driveway of the nation he was going to see. Gilbert shook his his head. _So he did figure it out..._Only Spain, Himself, Italy and Ludwig knew the reason behind this shift, maybe Romano knew too, but Gilbert couldn't be sure. One way or another, though

Germany parked the car and got out of the vehicle. Prussia not far behind him. Ludwig entered the house, not wanting to waist time waiting for it to be answered. Prussia smirked. Germany really did love the little Italian if he was willing to against his own rules just to save him.

Both men stopped just beyond the foyer when they heard shouting.

"AND WHY THE HELL NOT YOU PIANO BASTARD!? IS MY FRATELLO NOT WORTH YOUR GOD DAMN PRECIOUS TIME NOW?! YOU WILL HELP ME! WE WILL SAVE HIM! AND I DON-MMPH!" There was sounds of a struggle and muffled curses. Curious, Germany and Prussia followed the noise. Both stopped and stared at the commotion. Spain was holding back an enraged South Italy, while somehow covering his mouth, Austria was dusting himself off and fixing his glasses. Hungry stood off to the side gripping her frying pan, unsure if she should intervene.

"Kesesesese! Looks like dey starded de pardy vithoud us, Vest." Hungry whirled around skillet at the ready. Germany put a hand up, blocking his elder brother from getting knocked out. Now was not the time. After all they had so very little of it to do the seemingly impossible.

"Since all pardies are presend I do nod see vhy ve cannot begin." Austria repositioned his glasses.

"Und, vhat is it dat ve are beginning, Germany?" Germany locked eyes with Austria before turning his gae to a stil struggling Romano.

"Ve are going to save Italy." Romano wiggled a little, not enough to get free but enough to remove the hand.

"And why do you think I want your help Potato Bastard!?" Not dropping his gaze or flinching from Romano's tone, Germany responded.

"Because I am the reason Italy is like this." The room got very quiet. Prussia kept moving his gaze around the room. Locking with Antonio's gaze only briefly, before moving it to Hungry and Austria.

"Ludvig, dear, you were not even a nation then. Vhy vould you think that you are the reason for Italy's behavior?" Hungry asked, voicing the question running through nearly everyone's mind.

Spain blinked in confusion before widening. "Mio dio...You don't mean!?" Romano looked back at the brunette.

"Oi! What are you going on about!? And let me go!" Spain ignored his friend's questions and looked over at his white haired friend.

"Ja." Was all Prussia said in response.

"Would you bastards care to join the rest of us in your fucking conversation!?" Germany sighed. This was going to go south fast whether or not he said those six words. The words that would change the rest or their history. He straightened up. He would face this as he did everything else; head on. He looked to everyone in the room, locking their gaze with his and effectively quieting the room.

"I vas, nein, _am _de Heiligen römischen Reichs."

OMG! OMG! I AM SO, SO, SO, SO SORRY! I ran into a bit of writers block after the last chapter and then school started and college gave me the worst semester ever! I am so sorry! *bows* But the good news is that I am back and that I know where I am taking this story.

**Translations:**

**Fratello – Brother (Italian)**

**Nein – No (German)**

**Heiligen römischen Reichs – Holy Roman Empire (German)**

**Names:**

**You know most of them**

**Roderich – Austria**


	13. Ch 12: Reunited

Lookie guys I'm back! Sorry for the really long wait. This chapter gave me a hard time and then there was life...Not exactly an excuse, but ya...So here ya go!

"If ever there is tomorrow when we're not together... there is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we're apart... I'll always be with you."

~ A.A. Milne (Winnie the Pooh)

The room was silent. No one moved. No one made any attempt to speak. Germany knew this would happen. It was the only outcome he could think of happening. After all, he did just tell the people closest to him that he was the same nation that they knew all those years ago, that they thought dead. Yet here he was. Alive. Very much alive. He sighed.

"I know dis is hard do believe, bud id is de druth." That was all it took. The room seemed to burst to life. Everyone talking all at once. Shouting, crying, it was a mass of voices. Germany eye twitched in irritation. This was not going to help Italy. "Shud up!" The room fell quiet. Germany too in a breath to calm himself.

"Why bring this up now?" Blue eyes locked on to Romano, who had been freed from his Spanish prison in the commotion. "Why bring this up!? What good does it do us!?" Romano was quiet for a moment. His head slowly rose up, fire glowing bright in his eyes. "You. You're the reason he's like this! You're the reason!" Romano lunged at Germany. Spain stood to shocked to move as the feisty Italian punched Germany in the jaw, seething in anger.

Germany made no attempt to dodge or block the blow. He just stood and took it, believing with every cell of his body that he deserved it. That Romano was right. He _was_ the reason. He felt it in his heart.

"Ja." Germany's voice cracked with that one word. Romano looked up at him, angry tears gathering in his eyes. " I am de reason. I broke a promise." Sky blue eyes, full of fear, guilt, and sorrow locked onto hazel ones. "I know I am. Bud I also know dat I may be de only one who can fix dis." Germany took a small breath. "Bitte Romano. Led me fix vhat I have broken."

Romano stood there quietly searching every bit of Germany's eyes for any trace of lies, deceit. He found none. Not that he expected it. Germany cared about Italy. He knew this already. But if Germany was really Holy Rome, well then, there wasn't a doubt in his mind that the man before him cared for his brother. Heck, loved is probably the better word.

South Italy huffed and took a step back. "Fine. I'll let you try." He pointed a finger at the taller man. "But if you screw it up, _I'm_ going to be the one you have to worry about. Got it, Potato Bastard?" Germany couldn't help but smile.  
"Ja. I god id." Romano just huffed and returned to Spain's side.

Prussia grinned. "So, Vest." Germany turned to him. "Before ve ged side dracked vith de whole you being Holy Rome ding. Ve may vant do see aboud a plan for Idaly." Leave to Prussia to be the mood breaker, but he did have a point.

"As much as I vould like do ask a few quesdions of Gilbert, bud, und I can'd believe I am saying dis, ve do need do come up vith a plan." All eyes moved over to Austria. Prussia snickered at the Austrian's obvious discomfort with what he just said. Germany just nodded. He had spent the entire time on the drive here thinking of just that. Now it was time to get second opinions and put said plan into action. He only hopped that Italy was willing to listen.

~*~*Time Skip*~*~

The group stood outside Italy's home in Venice. That gotten there as fast as they could have, worry and hope fueling the each member of the odd little group. Germany stood looking up at the house. His best friend was in there. The same friend he had hurt far more than anyone could have possibly known. The blond haired man tentatively took a step forward, butterflies beginning their nervous flight inside his stomach. He could feel the presence of the others behind him. They would wait until he came back out to get them, but for now he was on his own.

As each step brought him closer to the house, a feeling of dread began to creep up his spine. Something was off. He stopped as the front door opened. Russia walked calmly out of the building, a small triumphant smile on his face. He looked at each person standing in the driveway, smiling wider as his violet eyes met with a certain brunette's.  
"You vill be happy to know that you no longer need to vorry about that annoying brother of yous." Germany's heart began to beat faster as Russia's words sunk in. No. No. Italy was alright. He was alright. He was– **BOOM!**__

__Germany automatically raised a hand to cover his face as the explosions continued. His heart dropping at every one. His stomach turning to lead. He could hear Romano shouting out in Italian. He could hear Hungry's cries. Italy was in there. _His_ Italy was in there. One foot found it way in front of the other. Then his other foot fallowed suit. Before anyone had the chance to notice Germany was running full speed into the raging fire.

"Italien! Italien!" He fought his way through collapsing room after room. "Damn it! Felicano! Feli!" Then he heard it. A small cough. A quiet cry of pain. To his left. Towards the study. Germany picked up the pace as he dodged flames and debris. "Hold on Feli! I'm coming!" He reached the door. He tried the door knob. It was locked. Ludwig nearly growled in frustration, before taking a step back and charging at the wooden annoyance keeping him from his Italy. The door busted from the frame, hanging limply on its hinges. Germany immediately searched the room for his precious friend. Finding him bleeding out on the floor behind the desk, several gun shot wounds to the chest.

"Feli! Feli!" Germany quickly knelt down and pulled Italy into his arms, tears beginning to blur his vision. "Id's going do be alrighd now." He brushed a few locks of auburn hair from Italy's rapidly paling face. "I came back. Italien, I came home." Hazey amber eyes looked up at him.

"Ludwig?" One of Italy's hands reached up and stroked his face. Germany gripped his best friends hand.

"Ja. Id's me. Italy, Feliciano, I'm so sorry. I made you vait for so long." Italy stared at him through half lidded eyes confused. What does he mean 'made you wait'? Germany never made him wait for anything. Germany looked away. "I have something to tell you Feli. Id's aboud someding dat Bruder dold me dis morning. Someding I ended up remembering." He paused. Not quite sure how to continue. "Id vas a girl. I remembered a girl. She vas young. Only a child. She vore a green maids uniform. She dold me dat ve vere allowed do spend de day playing dogether. She, she kept calling me," He paused again, voice breaking slightly."She kept calling me 'Santa Roma.' Over and over again." Germany felt Italy's hand clench into a fist. His eyes wide, tears slowly falling down his face.

"No. No!" Italy's voice cracked as he tried to pull his hand away from Germany.

"Bitte Italien. I never god do say dis do you, bud I'm going do say id do you now." Germany Leaned down so Italy could look him in the eyes. "No matter how many years pass, I like you most in the world." He whispered. His eyes locking with amber ones. Italy chocked back a sob and raised his other hand, uncleching his fist.

"Santa Roma..." He smiled. It was a real smile. Germany, chocked back a sob of his own. He had made his Italy smile again. Truly smile. "Santa Roma is Germany" His voice was so low that Germany could barely hear it. "You came home, but I didn't notice. I, I.." Tears flowed free from Italy's eyes.

Germany smiled at him. "Id's alrighd now. Id's going do be alrighd now. I'm going do ged you oud of here. Den ve can ead sveeds dogether. Okay?" Italy nodded, his smile not leaving his face.

Germany made quick work of picking his injured love up. Trying to be as careful as he could, though cries of pain still escaped Italy. Germany stood facing the door. The fire had all but closed that route out off. Germany gently laid Italy down on the desk. He needed to make another way out. He glanced behind him. The window was large and the study was on the first floor of the house. Grabbing the desk chair, Germany set to knocking as much glass out of the window as he could. He could just begin to hear the faint sounds of fire engines and the shouting of his brother and friends. Once he deemed the window safe to go through he picked Italy back up.

"I'm going to jump out of the vindow and get you to safety." Italy was very pale now. He had lost to much blood. Germany placed a foot on the window seal and pushed off of the floor with the other. He propelled them out of the window frame and land as gently as he could on the grass below. He didn't waste a moment before sprinting to where he had left the others.

As soon as he had reached the others he gently set Italy down and attempted to stop the bleeding. Every ounce of training running through his head and hands. Deep inside though, he knew it wasn't going to help. Feli had lost to much blood. Tears began to slide down his face as his attempts to save the person he loved failed.

"Nein! Feli! Nein!" Italy raised a shaky hand to brush the tears from his loves face. A peaceful, happy smile gracing his lips. Germany cried harder as the hand began to fall back to the ground. "Nein! Nein. Italy you can'd leave! I only jusd god you back!" But it was to late. The light in Italy's eyes had faded and taken the beating of his heart with it.

Prussia wanted to cry as well. He had just lost a friend, but his brother...Germany had on;y just gained something much more back only to lose it. The silver haired man knelt down next to his brother, pulling him into a hug, and letting the younger one cling to him as he cried. Romano had felt the moment Feliciano had passed. He felt the weight of being the representation of Italy. The only personification. He let his knees give out and fell to the ground. When Spain knelt down next to him, Romano hugged him, crying into his chest. Spain let his own tears fall as he tried to comfort Romano. Hungry had long since dropped her frying pan and had taken to sobbing into Austria's chest, as the aristocratic nation to let his tears fall. The world had lost a precious soul. A broken soul who had just gotten the chance to heal.

~*~*Time Skip, Several Days*~*~

The funeral had been nice. Austria played music. Many of the Nation who knew Italy chose to ignore the recent change they had witnessed and say something they had remembered about the bright, bubbly man they had known, for to the world, that had been the true Italy, even if Italy hadn't been able to see it.

When it was all over, only a handful of nations were left, but one by one they left until only a single nation remained. Germany knelt down in front of the grave. He placed a box of sweets in front of the headstone.

"Forgive me Feli. I should have saved you. Dis is all my fauld. But I vill do my besd do live how you vould have vanded me do. Ich leibe dich, Italien." Germany said, wiping some of his tears away. He stood and left, knowing that as long as he kept Italy's memory alive, his friend was never that far away.

**Translations:**

**Bitte – Sorry (German)**

**Nein – No (German)**

**Ja – Yes (German)**

**Italien – Italy (German)**

**Santa Roma – Holy Roman (Italian)**

**Names:**

**You know them by now**

Okay! SO there it is the last chapter of 'What Lies Beneath'! *cowers behind large overturned table* Please don't kill me! There will either be an epilogue or a squeal not quite sure yet on which...But ya, no kills! *still hiding*


	14. Epilogue pt 1

Okay so I told you guys that I was going to do an epilogue or a squeal, so here is pt. 1 of the epilogue. And yes I did just say part 1. It should be two or the chapters long...I think...

"One cannot live unless they have something worth living for. One cannot die without having something to leave behind. And one cannot love without the two above"

~ Unknown

Five years. It had been five whole years since it happened. Since he had regain some memories of a past he had thought lost to him. Five years since he saw those honey eyes or wide grin, even if they hadn't been true. Five years since he had last held him. His bed still felt empty without the Italian in it. The kitchen still felt too clean without the random pasta stains. He knew now that those actions were false, empty. But he also knew, though he didn't know how, that they were just as true as they were fake.

He ran a hand down the cold stone surface, fingers tracing the name. _Feliciano Vargas._ He could feel the tears gathering in his eyes, but he didn't care. This place was the only place he let himself cry. The only time his walls were let down. It had taken months to get things to a relative state of normality. Many of the nations had threatened Russia with invasions and halting all trade with him and anything they could think of when they found out just what he had done. Even Belarus who hadn't like Italy all that much, refused to talk to Russia, which in turn, surprisingly, scared the larger nation far more than her constant pursue of him. He was now trying to pay restitution and would most likely be paying for many years to come.

Germany let himself smile a little. Russia got what was coming to him, if only a little.

"I'm sorry Feli. I vasn't fasd enough. Or sdrong enough do save you." Germany brushed away his tears and reached beside him. "I broghd dese for you." He laid down a bouquet of lilies, the national flower of Italy. Germany stood up and began to walk away. He visited here when ever he got the chance; the anniversary of Italy's death, his birthday, the anniversary of the Iron pact. Any excuse he could just to be there. His brother, Japan, and the others let him. He saw the glances that they gave him. They pitted him. Felt sorry for him. Hungry and Austria had begun to treat him less like their friend Germany and more like their little brother Holy Rome. It had been odd at first, but now it was a welcome reprieve.

Germany shook his head. He needed to stop this. Stop feeling sorry for himself. Yet, he just couldn't seem to get rid of the feelings that something was off. They were meant to have a happy ending weren't they? Hadn't they suffered through enough? The blond nearly growled and began to walk. He didn't have a destination, just wanted to wander. To clear his head. So he did. He wandered the winding streets of Venice. Stopping every now and again to catch his breath and admire the city around him.

It was like he could see Feliciano in every brick and every face. The very city beat with the same energetic vibe that Feli had. It was why he liked wandering the streets of Venice. It was like having his Italian right there with him.

Germany glanced at his watch. **12:56.** It was that late already? The large man sighed. He always lost track of time here. The city seemed to steal it from him, not that he minded. For once. Right now though, he needed to find some place to eat.

The blond looked around. There wasn't a shortage of restaurants. He just needed to pick one. After a moment he had decided and began to walk towards it, but the soft strums of a guitar had him looking in the opposite direction. He didn't know why but the music felt like it was pulling him. He took a step towards the sound but stopped short as a voice accompanied the soft notes.

"_Heart beats fast  
Colors and promises  
How to be brave?" _

It couldn't be? Could it?

_"How can I love when I'm afraid to fall?  
But watching you stand alone,  
All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow."_

It sounded just like him.

"_One step closer"_

He could feel himself talking that first step. Then another. Hesitantly walking toward the voice.

_"I have died every day waiting for you_

His steps were faster now. Longer strides. The voice was slowing getting louder.

_Darling, don't be afraid I have loved you  
For a thousand years_

He dodged people and chairs, tables and venders. He had to get to the owner of the voice.

_I'll love you for a thousand more"_

He weaved through the traffic. So many people. It was the height of tourist season, but couldn't they see he was in a hurry?

_"Time stands still  
Beauty in all she is  
I will be brave"_

It sounded so much like Feliciano. It hurt, but it couldn't be him. He was dead. But if there was a chance that it was... Hope burned in Ludwig's chest for the first time in years. His steps grew from a fast walk to an outright sprint.

_"I will not let anything take away  
What's standing in front of me"_

He came up to the corner, barely missing the lamp post and street signs.

_"Every breath  
Every hour has come to this"_

Germany stopped short. His heart beating faster than it had in years. A young man sat on a wooden chair elevated on a small stage outside a cafe. He played the guitar as he sang into a microphone. No wonder he had heard the music from so far way.

_One step closer_

He did just that. Stepped closer. He had to see this man up close. The man who sounded like his Italian.

_"I have died every day waiting for you  
Darling, don't be afraid I have loved you  
For a thousand years  
I'll love you for a thousand more"_

His heart clenched with every word. It sounded like it was being sung just for him. To him. He slowly maneuvered around a group of tourists and missed yet another lamp post. Finally, he could see him. No more obstructions.

"_And all along I believed I would find you  
Time has brought your heart to me"_

He couldn't see the young man's face, but he had a mop of auburn hair. His skin was kissed by the sun. Delicate fingers carefully strummed the strings f his instrument. He wasn't very tall from what Germany could see and he was a bit lanky in build.

_"I have loved you for a thousand years  
I'll love you for a thousand more"_

The man raised his face, amber eyes scanning the crowd. Germany's heart stopped. It was his face. The face he had for so long now only saw in dreams and old photographs.

"Feliciano..."

"_One step closer  
One step closer"_

As if responding to a command, he stepped forward. Inching ever so slowly towards the cafe. The man on the stage smiled brightly as he continued to sing, almost as if he were happy to see Ludwig there.

"_I have died every day waiting for you  
Darling don't be afraid I have loved you  
For a thousand years  
I'll love you for a thousand more"_

Germany stopped just at the edge of the tables sitting before the stage. The small group of people sitting outside sipping on their drinks and enjoying a peaceful late lunch. He could not stop himself from staring at the man. Amber eyes locked on to his, rooting him to place.

_"And all along I believed I would find you  
Time has brought your heart to me  
I have loved you for a thousand years  
I'll love you for a thousand more" _

The song ended, but Ludwig couldn't get himself to move. The man said something in rapid Italian, a bright smile on his face. He set the guitar down on the chair an hopped off the stage. He made his way through the tables and people, stopping only when someone called out to him. A quick response and a smile and he was once more heading towards the German.

Ludwig could feel his heart speed up and his hands start to sweat. Was this really his Feliciano? Or was it just a look-a-like? He didn't have time to think as the man stopped right in front of him, a sly smirk gracing his lips.

"Ve~ I thought I'd bee seeing you." Germany nearly melted at the sound of his voice. Italy's voice. His amber eyes seemed to melt into a pool of honey an the light caught them. "Though I didn't expect you to take so long." The man laughed. "Ve~ Ludwig! Aren't you going to say some thing?" that was it. This man had to be Feliciano. He had said his name. It was at that moment that the flood gates seemed to blow apart. The larger man enveloped the smaller in a tight hug. Tears flowing down his cheeks, soaking the other man's shoulder.

"Feli..." It was all he could manage to get out amongst the sobs. The smaller man merely held him. Rubbing his hands across his back and playing with the slicked back blond locks.

"I know. I'm sorry, but it's okay now. I'm back." Germany cried in releif. He had him back. His Italy was back. He didn't care how or why. He was just glad that he had him in his arms again and this time eh wasn't going to let go.

Tehe~ You guys thought I killed him off for good didn't you!? Tehe, like I could do that to poor Germany. Also, I'm sorry about throwing in a song, but it was just too perfect! SO ya. Part 1 of the Epilogue. Hope you guys enjoyed!


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